Doubt
by hunterwolf11
Summary: Post-Concentrate and Ask Again...Olivia has self-doubts and expresses her thoughts and feelings...sort of
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I make no money from this; I certainly make no pretense that I created these complex characters. I wouldn't leave them in such misery from week to week. Okay, maybe I would. I don't know. Pretty sure they belong to Bad Robot etc. though.

Spoilers: Everything through Concentrate and Ask Again.

Rated T for a naughty word probably everyone older than 10 has heard.

A quick stylistic note at the end.

* * *

It didn't say anything I didn't already know in my heart. I'd lost him. I'd gone over to the other side, putting my life on the line once again for a man I loved and thought loved me back, only to lose it all.

It's not that I don't know he cares for me too, but I'm too damaged. I can't be the person he wants me to be. I can't even bring myself to hate _her_. Not really. We're so alike in so many ways. I would have done the same thing if I'd been in her place. She was told what she was doing was to save her universe. I'd lie, kill, and yes, if I thought it would make the difference in passing off my cover, I'd sleep with the enemy. The lives of a few billion people are worth a little of my pride and self-respect.

To see it this clearly, though, laid out in a single sentence scribbled on a torn out notebook page, my heart feels like it's bleeding all over again. The shame I felt at John's apparent betrayal is back. I feel like such a fool. My damned mind-reading peer was right, we're too damaged and freakish for normal lives. Tears stream down my face and a sob catches me by surprise.

I don't cry. At least, I never used to. Not like this. I'm a soldier. I never even shed a tear in boot camp with drill instructors doing their best to batter down my defenses and ego. I think the difference was that I knew what they were doing; I have no idea what Peter's truly thinking or feeling. Even this clue is meaningless in a sense. I know this intellectually, but emotionally it doesn't feel true. It feels like the night I discovered his laundry in my machine. Proof of the betrayal I feel. I'm back to square one. So much for knowing always being better.

And he lied to me. I asked him point blank and he lied to my face. What else is he lying about? This seems important, niggling at the back of my mind, but I can't pinpoint the uneasy feeling. All the steps he seems to be trying to take with me right now are aimed at regaining my trust, but I know now that he's perfectly capable of lying to me.

Fuck him. I snort. Not literally. Maybe. Maybe that's the trick. Should I treat it like pulling off a band-aid? Just do it quickly; don't think about it. Just send him a text telling him I need to talk to him and jump him in the doorway? He was sleeping with her, is that the edge she has against me? Maybe he just misses sex. Guys are like that, from what I understand. Then, I've never understood them all that well.

I've always been too straightforward. I don't flirt well. _She_ does. _She_ still is here, in the back of my head. I can't get some of _her_ memories out of my head. My shot tonight proves this. My aim has never been _that_ good. I think he'd be better off with _her_. He's from _her _world, after all. Maybe they were always meant to be together and I'm the one who's interloping. Maybe the person I was supposed to be with died in bed as a child all those years ago.

Everywhere I go, _she_'s with me, like a fucking ghost I can't get rid of.

* * *

Peter swallowed against the burning knot in his throat and was glad he'd already set her coffee down; he would have crushed it in his hand otherwise. He stumbled back a few steps from Olivia's sleeping form, hunched over at her desk where she'd apparently fallen asleep after writing those words, and sank onto the couch against the back wall.

The smell of coffee would wake her shortly—what was he going to say? He tried to rehearse the words in his head, but his mind kept going blank. He saw her groggily raise her head and run a hand across the back of her neck. He was vaguley surprised to feel tears streaming hot down his cheeks. Any moment now she would notice the coffee and turn to find him like this, and she would know that he'd read it.

* * *

Note - I wrote this in the choppy style that I did to try and emulate the stressed, confused state I feel like Livia should be feeling. If I continue (based upon if reviewers think it's worth it, of course!) the rest will be in a more prosaic manner.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't think you're damaged."

Olivia jumped and turned in her chair to face Peter. She was still groggy and wondered what time it was. She rubbed some sleep from her eyes and finally noticed the tear tracks running down his face. He seemed to be looking in her direction, but his red-rimmed eyes were obviously unfocused. "What? Peter, is everything okay?"

She waited a few seconds, but it seemed he had no intention of answering. Concerned, she scooted her chair back a little, instinctively reaching for the coffee she could smell next to her, and her eyes landed on the legal pad she had set to the side after exorcising her demons in her usual way.

Rachel had given Olivia the idea to keep a "temporary journal" back in high school. Olivia had never been good at expressing herself to others and always kept a tight lid on issues that were bothering her. Rachel had said that it wasn't good for a person to let bad emotions build up inside like that, and that maybe if she wrote down what she felt it would help ease the internal tension. While it did help, what Olivia found most comforting about her ritual was re-reading what she had written a day or two later, and then destroying the written evidence. Getting the feelings expressed wasn't enough; she had to take time to consolidate and subconsciously work out the issues at hand, read it over again after that time had passed, and then - perhaps symbolically - destroying the paper always made her feel better. It was something she knew she should have done after the Amanda Walsh case instead of lashing out at Peter, but he had caught her unexpectedly and her feelings were so surprisingly strong - even to herself – that she couldn't stop herself once she had begun.

The pages were never meant to be read by anyone other than herself. She had always tried to maintain a façade of confidence to the world, even when she didn't feel that way about herself. Now, Peter would be able to see past that mask. To Olivia, the raging outburst in the garden was regrettable, but acceptable; an insecure rambling to herself, however, was downright humiliating.

"You weren't supposed to read that." It sounded pathetic even to her own ears, but it slipped out in a whisper before she could self-censor. She turned back toward Peter just in time to see his eyes refocus on her.

"And people aren't supposed to set spies on other people's minds, either. But you do that a lot, Olivia. You're a hypocrite sometimes, you know that? You lied to me – a lie of omission maybe, but a big one – about where I came from. You can't sit there and tell me you haven't kept things from me. That you haven't lied to my face. What did he even tell you that I lied about?"

The sudden outburst, verbal assault, really, startled Olivia for a moment. She never took well to a defensive position, however, and shot back, "How many lies have you told me that you need me to clarify that for you? "

Though he responded there was a slight hesitation which told her there were indeed other things he was keeping from her. "Judging from what you wrote, it was about your counterpart, and from our previous conversation, he told you I still think about her. Is that it?"

"Feelings for her. Look, Peter, I haven't had a chance to re-read what I wrote. I was venting on paper and I'm sure a lot of what I wrote was pretty pathetic. This is my method, this is how I cope. But I need you to be honest with me." They were at least making eye contact now, and he appeared to be listening and not just denying everything without taking in what she had to say. " I really don't ask these questions to be either masochistic or fish for compliments. We both know we're not good at communicating; but I'm trying. But when I try, I need you to be honest. " She flashed that self-deprecating grin he'd come to hate over the last few weeks; he knew it meant she was hiding the pain. "It may take me some time to absorb everything, but I'm trying – I'm really trying – to understand your point of view on all this."

Peter sat back and held his hand over his eyes. Finally he dropped his hand and tilted his head to the side. "I don't want to hurt you, Olivia. It seems no matter what path I choose I end up doing just that. The time I spent with her was the happiest time of my life. I felt like I was exactly where I belonged, with the person I belonged with. I was scared of what we had discovered about me and my role in what might happen, but you were there beside me – with me – and I felt like everything would work out in the end. I was scared to death, but I'd never been so damn happy." A humorous laugh escaped and a tear tricked from the corner of his eye. Olivia moved as though to get up and sit by him but he shook his head and motioned her to stay put.

"I thought it was you, but it was her. I'm having a hard time separating that in my head. I want to remember those times, when I was happy, and be happy, but I know I shouldn't because it was a lie and my blissful ignorance almost led you to your death and may have given them the edge they need. I can't let my emotions blind me that way again."

The emphatic way that last statement was said gave Olivia pause. "What do you mean by that?"

"They sent her over here for a reason. Why have us gather all the parts for that machine? If they wanted the piece they're missing, fine, but what do they plan to do with it without me? Why give our side the same weapon while I'm over here? She was up to something else, and I've been trying to figure that out. I'm sorry, Olivia, but right now I have to spend my time and energy on that. I don't have the resources to fix us and the universes at the same time. I want us to be okay – and hopefully when this is all over you won't hate me and we'll have our shot then. I just can't be blinded by my happiness while this is at stake."

She understood exactly what he meant. Pieces were falling into place in her head. The persistent itch in the back of her mind – that she was missing something big – it was suddenly replaced by annoyance.

"I see." At some point she had grabbed her pen and was tapping it against her palm now. She had forced him into telling one secret. She didn't want to push him too far, but he seemed to be willing to open up right now, and she didn't want to lose that advantage either. "After all, you figured out the password, you're good with computers." Her lips twitched as a slightly wistful smile tried to mar the thoughtful expression on her face. "You know the two of us pretty well, the way we organize information. You have a rather shady past and probably know easy ways to break into places." Olivia stood up suddenly, realizing she was about to lose control of her emotions again. "I'm sorry, Peter, I have to think about this one. Personal matters are one thing – but you're right, it's petty compared to the reality we're facing in this struggle. Which is why I don't understand why you felt the need to work alone on this. I'm going home to get cleaned up. I'll be back in awhile." She tore the page off the legal pad and ran it through the shredder. It didn't make her feel all that good this time. Coffee in hand, she headed to the door. Her hand had just hit the doorknob when Peter spoke again.

"You're a good person, Olivia. You even made me a good person for awhile. But right now we need results. I'm willing to tap into my darker side to do so, but I can't ask you to do that. Charlie once told me that the problem with being in law enforcement was that you had to obey the law yourselves. "

Olivia smiled sadly, still facing the door. "Yeah, that sounds like Charlie."

Peter chuckled a little, but added, "More than that, though, like I said, you made me a better person, I can't return the favor by asking you to be a bad one."

She opened the door a crack and then stopped. Turning to look him in the eyes she stated simply, "I've never thought you were a bad person, Peter. Not once."

Halfway through the door she turned around again, "Well, maybe once, but not now. I still need to think, though."

Peter took great comfort in the first real smile he'd seen from her in a long time. They had a long way to go, but it was a good start.

* * *

Always remember; perhaps the greatest clue from Season Two (didn't mean to make that rhyme, honest!). It still gives me the chills, and even more so since Concentrate and Ask Again:

"A Demon's Twist Rusts"

"Don't trust Sam Weiss"


End file.
